


The Valhalla of Bookcases

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 23:59:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10955448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: AKA Ikea.





	The Valhalla of Bookcases

Kylo chews on the stupid little pencil, keeping his tongue away from the lead inner (even though he _knows_ it’s graphite and there’s no ‘lead’ poisoning, his head still goes there). It’s satisfyingly crunchy, though any minute now it will splinter in his mouth, and then the fun will be over.

Hip out at a jaunty angle, he considers all the different options in front of him. Colours, heights, drawers for storage, options for cables and other things that are flexible and long…

“Kylo, what are you doing?”  


“I’m looking at desks.”  


“I can see that, I want to know _why_?”  


“I’m deciding which one you’d look better bent over.” He nods at the closest one. “This one looks less sturdy, but the holes for cables could be a good ligature p– HEY!”  


Kylo pulls his leg away, rubbing at his shin. 

“We’re in _public_.”  


“We’re in _IKEA_ , Hux, the laws of convention go out the window. What happens in Ikea stays in Ikea.”  


“That is complete and utter bullshit and you know it.”  


Kylo shrugs. “I had to occupy myself. I made a list of all the names that look like sex acts, or eldritch abominations, or diseases, too. Sometimes they overlap.” He holds out his scrap of paper to show him.

“…we came for bookshelves.”  


“Yes.”  


“Not desks, or sex toys.”  


“It’s _awful_ in here. We were in the car for like - three years - and we’ve gotten around two-ninths of the floor plan, and the diagram doesn’t even make logical sense so I think we’re being funnelled through an occult sigil designed to bring about the end times.”  


“Kylo, you could have just stayed at home.”  


“Really? And let your spindly arms carry flat pack?”  


So now Kylo is beginning to understand why his parents never did this together. He’d not wanted to come, but he’d also been sure he could get through this without losing his sanity.

He hasn’t even got to the warehouse bit yet, where he fully expects to have an existential, brown, cardboard crisis. If he gets that far.

“Stop looking at desks and come help me get the bookcase we came for, and I’ll let you get one of those fake sheepskin rugs,” Hux offers.   


Oh. Hmm. Those _had_ felt nice. “And can I get a soda on the way out, too?”

He knows he’s pushing his luck, because a soda will also mean more things to eat and drink, but he can see Hux isn’t really enjoying this, either. 

“Fine. But keep the sex talk down. Even if it looks like it should be in a dungeon, if it wasn’t painted pink.”  


“That’s very reductive of you,” Kylo snorts. “A pink dungeon would be–” He sees the pulled back boot, and stops. “I’ll get the rug and meet you at the gates of bookcase Valhalla?”  


“Good boy.”  



End file.
